Edward Cullen FBI Special Agent and Psychic
by Dinia Steel
Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve. A/H Edward, Bella, Sam, Angela, Lauren mostly. B E eventually
1. Chapter 1

FBI Special Agent Edward Cullen (Psychic)

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N: Please remember this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches as well as Guardian Angels but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating. If it's well received, there'll be more to come, so here is the introduction to my version of Edward Cullen, psychic FBI.

Translations: Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns.

~o0o~

Just who is Edward Cullen, you might ask? I am a 32 year old FBI Special Agent with a double degree from Harvard Law and Business as well as a minor in Psychology and Anthropology. I managed to graduate as the Valedictorian of the School of Business and Salutatorian of the School of Law.

I am married to Sara Jane Cullen, my highschool sweetheart and we have one child, a boy we named Ethan Edward Cullen.

My older brother, Emmett Cullen is a Captain in the Chicago Police Department and our baby sister, Alice Cullen-Whitlock is the Fashion Coordinator at Saks 5th Ave in Chicago.

My father, Carlisle Cullen has his own very successful law firm; my mother is an interior designer with her own thriving business

You could say, I come from a very upper middle class family that was filled with love, although financial security has not defined my life. The fact that I am the grandson of Erik Weisz, determined who I was destined to become. Everyone else knew my grandfather as Harry Houdini, but the fact that he was my grand sire is not public knowledge. The FBI felt it wouldn't look too good when they sent my resume to the other law enforcement agencies that they lent me out to from time to time.

What I _know_ to be true, I must be able to define in ways that a court of law would accept. Therein lies some of my biggest challenges.

Men and women in law enforcement tend to see things in black and white; what can either be proven under a microscope, from a picture and presented in a court of law.

Currently, I am assigned to the FBI Headquarters in Washington, DC with the designation of "floater." This "designation" means I'm sent to places where a particularly disturbing, i.e. unexplainable, crime has been committed—and I solve it. The Director doesn't want to know how I discover my sometimes startling evidence, he just wants to take these crimes off the books. It looks bad for unsolved crimes to be on the FBI's resume, you know.

The Director tells himself that I'm so good at my job because I am thorough and am able to see clues missed by others. This is true, but it's not just because I'm thorough... I use my very strong psychic and telepathic abilities, as well as some very special "help" from my Guardian Angel, Michael.

~o0o~

When I was a child I didn't realize I was different. I thought everyone could hear what other people were thinking, and I loved the pretty pictures I could see in my mind. Seeing ghosts wasn't that bad either, once I realized they wouldn't hurt me.

It wasn't until I was in my pre-teens that I began to think I might be crazy. However, because my mother knew I was a psychic - just as she was - she convinced me that I wasn't crazy, and she taught me how to control it.

_One day, my mom was trying very hard to listen to just one thought at a time as she interviewed a difficult client, trying to get a feel for what they really wanted in their new interior design. I asked her later, just so I could understand better, "Mom, how do you know how to do this stuff?"_

_Smiling sadly she answered, "My father was a very strong psychic, only they called it being clairvoyant back then." Sighing heavily, "His name was Erik Weisz, though publicly he was known as Harry Houdini."_

_"Why haven't you talked about him before? You talk about grandma all the time, but you've never mentioned him." Edward's eyebrows scrunched up, forming little lines on his beautiful teenaged face._

_"No, I haven't Edward, and that's because your grandfather never married your grandmother. He was already married when my mother, Marie, became pregnant with me, so he could_ _not acknowledge me as his daughter to the world at large. His name is on my birth certificate but it was never made public." Again, smiling sadly, "He did, however, make provisions for my mother and we were taken care of very comfortably, although he never saw Marie. Your grandmother died when I was eighteen years old and I inherited the bequest, so I was able to go to college and that's where I met your father."_

I never asked again, but I now understood why I was such a powerful psychic. Harry Houdini was and his powers were passed on to my mother, and then to me.

I discovered on my sixteenth birthday, that I also had a real, honest to God Guardian Angel, whose name is Michael. Now, whether or not Michael was sent from God, I don't know, because he's never confirmed nor denied that fact. As far as that goes, I don't really know if he's an angel or something else.

It doesn't matter because what might be good for one might be bad for another.

But that is another story.

_On my 16th birthday, I was still agonizing over my ability to read minds. On this particular night I was with some friends. We'd had a couple of beers, and then one of the bright little idiots broke out a bottle of Wild Turkey. We were all sitting on the catwalk of the water tower closest to our school. Another one of my idiot friends decided we should all try to walk on the hand railings around the catwalk. Everyone else had taken their turn, when it became mine._

_I knew better._

_Everything was was spinning because I was drunk. _

"_God hates a coward," I mumbled as I tried to climb onto the hand railing.__Sure it was flat on the top but it wasn't more than a couple of inches wide, if that. My friends helped me up and cheered me on as I Wobbled and started to fall. Their cheers turned to screams of terror._

_I screamed as I fell._

_I was going to die._

_I stopped falling._

_Was I dead?_

_That was it?_

_I was dead._

_I kept waiting for that tunnel of light to appear and suck me up to heaven._

_However, that's not what happened._

_I found myself sitting in the branches of a very old and large oak tree. Next to me was a middle-aged man all dressed in black. He was very distinguished looking; graying at the temples and all._

"_Hello Edward. I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but I couldn't let you die. It's not your time." The stranger's voice was a very mellow baritone._

_That was good._

_I don't like higher pitched voices._

"_Hello?" I managed to croaked out. "Who are you?"_

_The stranger smiled broadly. "You may call me Michael. I'm your Guardian Angel."_

"_My what?" The terror from the fall had burned almost all of the alcohol from my system._

"_That was a very stupid thing you just did Edward." The Angel named Michael chastised him._

"_Em. Yeah, I know." I mumbled._

"_Well, Edward, you're going to live to accomplish great things. You're going to be a tool to help maintain the balance between the forces for Light and Dark. So, you have been assigned to me to keep you from killing yourself or being killed before your time is up. Now I'm going to let you continue your fall, which has been broken by this tree. You'll break your collarbone and your right arm. This is to remind you that all actions have consequences. See you later Edward."_

_With a smile, the Angel pushed himself off the tree limb and waved goodbye._

_When I came to, I was on my way to the hospital._

_Sure enough, my collarbone and right arm were broken._

_I never forgot that. Actions, stupid or otherwise, always have consequences._

~o0o~

Angel, Guardian, Seraph, Seraphim, Grigori—whatever. Frankly I don't care.

What I do know is that Michael is capable of protecting me from bullets, speeding cars, and all other physical attacks. I'll not, however, go into the details here now... just, suffice it to say—he can, or I would not be here today.

But again, those are stories for another day.

~o0o~

My best friend, Samuel Laveau Uley, just happens to be the 7th grandson of Marie Laveau, who was also known as The Witch of New Orleans. Sam is married to Angela John Dee Weber. Yes, her birth certificate actually bears "John Dee" as part of her name. She and her sister, Lauren John Dee-Weber-Mallory, are many greats removed from their grand shire, the famous John Dee who was the astrologer to Queen Elizabeth I of England. It was also rumored, strongly, that Dr. John Dee was an alchemist and a practitioner of the "dark arts".

Together, the four of us: Sam, Angela, Lauren and myself, make for a very powerful psychic force that I've come to depend upon for research when I'm investigating a crime that has, shall we say, mystical or occult overtones. It happens more than you'd think.

I met Sam when we were about five years old. My parents moved us to New Orleans, where my father, Carlisle, was doing a stint at Touro Infirmary. We'd found a nice little house in Algiers, across the Mississippi River; one of the older bedroom communities in the New Orleans area.

_One hot muggy day, I was playing in the backyard when another boy, about my age, was walking down the wide alley way He stopped and watched me through the chain linked fence._

_I felt this pull in my solar plexus toward the other boy. I left the toys I'd been playing with, and walked to the fence. "My name is Edward. What's yours?"_

"_I'm Sam. I live just there." He point to the left of Edward's house._

"_Want to come play cars with me?"_

"_Ok! Let me go tell my mama so she won't worry about me. Don't go away. We're going to be best friends!"_

That first meeting had been about thirty years ago, and Sam's prediction was true. Regardless of where I was, I managed to keep in very close touch with Sam. We'd call each other often and visit during vacations and holidays. No matter where in the world I was, Sam knew and talked with me almost every day.

As I began to investigate my "gift" I shared it with Sam. Sam had gifts of his own. He had inherited many of Marie Laveau's talents, and some were one hundred times stronger than hers. If Sam hadn't been been my best friend, I would have been scared of him.

Sam's gift is what is known as being a Hoodoo Man, Root Worker or a Greegree man.

The four of us, Sam, Angela, Lauren and myself, worked together successfully on some very strange cases. The occult information we've garnered has caused the departure from this physical plane, many a dark and evil soul.

I have learned through my own facilities that when my three friends made a statement about some one, to believe them and act accordingly.

While writing my final report on the latest unexplainable crime I'd been investigating, which I tried to write from a clinical point of view with as few words as possible. Trying to describe how I'd managed to find the clues and evidence that had allowed the tracking down of the unsub or unknown subject, and how as a result of the investigation, it had ended in a pitched gun battle where I shot and killed the unsub in self defense.

I ran my hands through my unruly hair, knowing I'd have to face a board of inquiry regarding this shooting, but I also knew it'd be found as a "good shoot" simply because there were other law enforcement agencies present at the time to witness said shooting. A "good shoot" means that I had not deliberately murdered the suspect, but had only defended myself.

The last sentence was typed onto the report when my cell phone vibrated.

Checking the incoming call display I didn't recognize the number.

"Cullen".

"Agent Cullen, this is Deputy Sheriff Williams. Are you married to Sara Jane Cullen?"

"Yes" was all I could gasp out because I saw in the calling officer's thoughts the vision of Sara's car overturned in a ditch that ran along side of what looked like a freeway.

"Mr. Cullen, where are you currently located?"

"Why are you calling me officer?" I already knew, but I had to hear it.

"It's my sad duty to inform you that your wife has been involved in a car crash. She's been taken to Mercy Medical Center along with a child that was in the car with her."

All of the air that had been in my lungs left me. My body went cold, but I managed to choke out, "I'm at the FBI Headquarters in Washington DC at the moment. I'm leaving right now and should be there in a couple of hours."

I disconnected the call as I ran from my office.

"Sally, please print out the report that's on the computer on my desk." Just as the elevator doors began to close, I gasped out, feeling lightheaded. "My family has been involved in an accident and I need to be there. I can be reached on my cell phone."

As soon as I could get out of the elevator, after it reached the ground level, I was out of the building and into my rental car, in what felt like hours later.

I gripped the steering wheel, and closed my eyes tightly.

I knew my family - my wife, the light of my life, along with my baby boy - were dead.

Their lives snuffed out in just one moment.

How it happened was not clear. It was a clear night - no fog, nor was the pavement wet. Apparently there'd been no other vehicles involved in the accident. There were no skid marks to be seen on the roadway. The witness reports stated that Sara's car just seemed to rise up into the air, and flip over and over, until the roof was smashed into the body of the car. Then it exploded.

The rescue workers managed to extract the two bodies that were just barely recognizable as Sara Cullen and baby son Ethan. Cause of death had been undetermined by the autopsy, but the medical examiner assumed COD had been extreme concussive force and/or inhalation of smoke and toxic fumes.

Sam knew almost instantly what had happened and within an hour of my being told that my family was dead, he called me. "I'll be there as quickly as it is possible to fly out to where you are, and help you get home...or shall I meet you there?"

"Sam, they're gone. They're dead. Sam..." I let out a strangled cry of pain, like nothing Sam had ever heard come from me.

"Edward. Where are you?" Sam asked.

"I'm on my way to the airport and will be flying home within the hour." I choked out.

"You're not driving are you Edward?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I'm okay to drive Sam. I guess I'm still in shock."

"Ok. Cher, I'll be with you in a few hours." Sam said.

"Thanks Sam. I don't know what happened. I'll need you to help me figure it out." My voice was almost faint.

I was so devastated by the death of my family that I was unable to function at my job effectively. Eventually I asked for and received an extended leave of absence.

~o0o~

A year passed and during that time I deeply mourned the loss of my wife and baby boy. My family was obviously very worried about me, and insisted that I try grief counseling.

Because of who and what I am, I understand the process of death better than most. I just knew there was no such thing as "death." It was actually a change of energy from one form to another, but the loss of a loved one causes a rift within the psychic and energy fields to those closest that are left behind. People usually describe the feeling of loss as a giant hole in their hearts. This description is very apt.

This rift; this gaping hole, needed to have time to heal.

Sam insisted that I come back with him to his floating home within the Atchafalaya Swamps. Together we spent many hours just "being;" fishing and talking into the wee hours about "things." We polished off his whole stock of Dixie Beer, emptied a copious number of bottles of Jack Daniels and enthusiastically consumed all of the wonderful Cajun foods that Angela and Lauren cooked up for us.

Together, with Sam's wife and her sister, we found out with all the certainty a psychic investigation could have, just how Sara and Ethan had died.

Because of the nature of my work for the FBI, I'd made some very powerful enemies. With hatred in their hearts, these criminals worked through some of the most powerful dark forces that could be brought to bear on this physical plane.

Knowing that killing my wife and child would be far more devastating than the satisfaction of killing me, they'd conspired to do just that. How it was actually accomplished had not, as of yet, been discovered, but we did find out where to start looking.

As a rather strong and powerful occult foursome, we began to put out "feelers" for more information about just who, or what, was responsible. It would not happen overnight, but retribution or Karma would be served in the best possible of ways.

~o0o~

When I was deemed fit for returning to work, a year had passed. In that time, I'd moved back to Chicago where my family was. My mother surprised me by purchasing a condo for me in a prestigious area and leasing a car that she knew I would enjoy. She'd even bought me a cat to keep me company while I was not traveling.

So I began another chapter in my life. I was going to throw myself into my work with the Bureau, and try to find peace along the way.

Hopefully, in the process, I'd come across the trail of those who'd taken my family away from me and bring them to justice. I would never stop until the murders of my family were brought to retribution, and Karma served.

~o0o~


	2. Chapter 2

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic

Chapter 2

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

_**This is a work of fiction and I've taken liberties with many things. I don't know of any crime like the ones talked about in this story. It all came from my head. *smiles***_

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've just borrowed her characters and made them dance the way I want. Thank you Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: I neglected, in my haste to get the Introduction of my "FBI guy" to you, to give credit to ScaraticBimbo and Linds McDonald for their pre-reading skills, and more importantly, their time. Thank you ladies. You help me do this more than you probably know. Last but by no means least my wonderful beta, Jyl aka JoanOfArt. You make my incoherent thoughts make sense! You are a wonder! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

_Additional information: Cher = Close friend_

~o0o~

Chapter 2

I was called into the Assistant Director's office today to be briefed on a new assignment. I knocked on the door without hesitation. Director Berty motioned for me to come in as he was on the phone. It was seldom you saw him without a telephone to his ear.

He hung up the phone and gave me his full attention, "Hello Edward. Been awhile since I had you in front of me." He was smiling so I knew I was not in trouble - besides, I could see in his mind that he had a particularly dicey job for me. Something about a series of murders that no one wanted to admit were strange.

Smiling back to him, "Hello Director. What's up?"

"Always right to the point. Not much for small talk are you?" Not giving me time to acknowledge, he continued. "There's been a murder in the LA area that seems to be something that your special brand of investigation skills could be used on. We've seen similar ones in other parts of the country, mostly in Florida, but now they seem to be spreading to the West Coast as well. You don't have any other assignment for the time being so I'd like you to fly out to LA and lend them a hand."

From his mind, I was able to glean that the "investigation skills" he referred to would definitely be needed since the victim's internal organs were either missing, or had been turned to jelly without the skin being cut or pierced, or anything else to indicate cause.

"Yes sir. I can be ready to go tomorrow morning. All I really need to do is call my parents and tell them I'm leaving town again so my mother can feed my fish, water my plants and watch my cat."

The Director handed me a rather thick case file. His phone rang again, and that was apparently the end of my briefing and interview.

~o0o~

Sitting down at my desk, I opened the file and began to read. Yes, indeed, this case seemed to be one that called for my _talents_. About two hours later, I had read the entire case history and was deep in thought when my desk phone rang.

"Cullen." I answered

"Agent Cullen, this is Lisa in Travel and Docs. I have your travel arrangements all ready for you to pick up. Or, if it would be easier for you, I can have them delivered to your condo and they'll be there when you get home." Lisa told me the broad details and I hung up the phone after making arrangements to have them delivered to my condo. I transferred the information to my cell phone so I'd have it handy.

~o0o~

Later that night, I called my longtime friend Sam Uley, to discuss this new case and to see if Sam might have any insight into it.

"You say the organs have been liquified and yet there was no sign of the skin being cut or broken in anyway?" Sam asked.

"Yep, that's right. What does that sound like to you, beside an intense burst of microwaves?" I asked.

"Sounds like you got yourself a power curse workin' mon ami" Sam drawled.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Well shit. Here we go again." Chuckling, I crossed from the study into the kitchen area and opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.

"Have you been able to come into the 21st Century yet Sam?" Edward asked joking about his friend's living conditions.

"No, Eddie. I still live on the dark, and dank swamp waters of the Atchafalaya, and you're very lucky that I have a Sat-phone. Otherwise I'd make you come hunt me down to chat." Sam's voice is full of the warmth Edward has come to associate with his friend.

"Where would you like me to fax the file to so you can get a better idea of what I'm getting into?" I asked, being glad the Assistant Director had made Sam official as an outside consultant so I could legally now share these kinds of details with him. Faxing was an antiquated method, but at least that was available. "I wish I could email it to you. But beggars can't be choosers!"

"Sure, Cher. Same number as before. I'll go over it and call you back." Sam replied absentmindedly.

Edward flipped open the file folder and pulled out a couple of pages and set them into the tray of his fax machine, punched in the fax number,and then hit send.

After the papers ran through the fax, Edward removed them and put them back into the folder. He sat down at his desk and looked at the papers and read again the following...

"_A string of murders in East LA leave Police at a dead end. People of different ethnicity and age are dying from what appears to be natural causes until the coroner makes some terrifying discoveries. Similar cases are popping up in other states."_

Edward leafed further through the file and discovered the number of the deaths.

A couple of hours later, his cell phone rang. The display said it was Sam. "Hey Sam. Did you read file already?"

"Yeah, I wasn't that far down river this time. I gotta tell you Cher, this one's a doozy. You's gonna need a powerful greegree bag. When you gonna be going to LA?" Sam chuckled. "Shall I send it to the FBI office in LA?"

"Sure, thanks. Do I dare ask?" Edward didn't always know, or want to know, what Sam put into his greegree bags, and it really wasn't advisable to open them, sometimes things came crawling out.

Laughing, "Only at your peril, Cher. Only at your peril." His voice changed, "Seriously Cher, just carry it with you. Better yet, hanging around your neck down to your solar plexus would be the best place for it. Sleep with it even; I'm serious Edward." Sam's tone broached no disagreement.

"Ok. Thanks my friend. I'll call you from LA. See if Angela or Lauren can add anything or see a different approach. I won't know anything for my part until I get there and _hear_ what it's about. I am going to have to meet with a Detective I. Swan. From the looks of his record...oh, the "_I_" stands for Isabella. Humm, I better see what I can find out about her. Talk with you later Sam." He ended the call to Sam. Placed his cell on the coffee table and went to look out one of his many windows thinking.

Edward picked up his cell phone again to call his brother Emmett, who thought he knew _everyone_ in law enforcement and if he didn't know them himself, he knew someone who did. It was only like two degrees of separation for Emmett, just ask him.

"Hey little brother! How they hangin?" Emmett laughed uproariously at his own joke.

"I'm doing really good Emmett. Listen, I need to see if you know of a female police detective in LAPD's homicide division." Edward cringed because he knew that Emmett was going to give him all kinds of shit.

"Female! You interested in this female as a female or a police detective?" Emmett was half joking and half serious.

Edward groaned into the phone. "It's important Emmett. I'm going to LA for a case and she's the detective in charge, so I want to know what I'm in store for, OK?"

"Alright Bro. Don't get your tighty-whities in a bunch! Give me her name and about half an hour and I'll call you back." and with that Emmett disconnected the call.

~o0o~

Edward was pacing when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the screen, "Well Em, that didn't even take you a half an hour! What did you find out?"

"Eddie, do you do Face Book? Oh that's right, you do, we're Friends. Anyway, type in Isabella (Bella) Swan and see what you get."

Edward when to his desk and opened his laptop and did as he was instructed. Isabella Swan, first woman police officer to be put in charge of homicide detail...and she was very attractive too.

Looking at this woman's face reminded Edward of his wife, his late wife. The woman who'd been the beginning and end of his world, but he couldn't go there. It was still too painful a place to be.

Emmett's voice breaks into Edward's consciousness.

"Eddie, one last thing. My contact with LAPD said this Swan woman is a real ball breaker, so just be advised." With that parting shot Emmett disconnected.

Hearing this woman's thoughts just might turn out to be a bit difficult.

~o0o~

A/N: I honestly have been blown away by the response to this fic. I can not thank y'all enough for your encouragement and support. I would also like to invite any of you who've had paranormal experiences to tell me about them or come to the Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent and Psychic Facebook page and let's talk.


	3. Chapter 3

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic

Chapter 3

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N: Please remember this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches as well as Guardian Angels, but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating. My undying thanks to my Beta JoanOfArt and to buggins74 who pre-read for me. Wouldn't be able to do this without you!

Come join me on my Face Book page for this story line. Just search for the title of this story.

~o0o~

Chapter 3

EPOV

I arrived at LAX around four pm and arranged for a car service to take me to my hotel as I don't wish to have to drive in this town.

I called the switchboard at the LA FBI office and reported that I had landed and that I was on the way to my hotel, or rather the suite I'd upgraded to at The Redbury at Hollywood and Vine. I've paid more for hotel accommodations but this was a rather quick trip and sometimes one had to take what they could get especially when it was last minute.

Once I did the rapid check in, I called the LAPD's Captain Molina and informed him of my arrival and where I was staying as well as giving him my cell phone number. He in turn gave me Detective Swan's cell number. I didn't waste anytime contacting her as I wanted to get started on this new case right away.

"Swan" she answered. Her voice was lower pitched than most women voices that I knew. Smart women cultivated low voice registers since men seemed to respond to them in business better than higher pitched ones.

"Detective Swan, this is Special Agent Edward Cullen. Captain Molina asked me to get in contact with you regarding the Maldonado case."

It seemed to take her a beat longer to reply than necessary. I could hear her _"Aww Shit! Fucking Federal Bureau of Intimidation"_ coming through loud and clear.

"Special Agent Cullen... I'm at USC Medical Center at the moment. The autopsy is underway now if you want to observe, or I can meet you after at the precinct and we can discuss the case files."

"The autopsy will most likely be be in the end stages by the time I find my way around. Let's meet at the precinct and go over your notes." It had been several years since I worked with a woman in the field. I was determined to not treat her any differently than I would a male police officer.

Everything Emmett had told me about her indicated that she was very professional and extremely good at her job. Although we would have to get over the hump of her feeling that I was invading her case. I could appreciate those feelings, and she was right. I, however, had skills that would work in favor of both of us, if I could get her to relax a little.

From what I could tell from listening to Detective Isabella Swan's mind, she'd be defensive towards me until we could come to a common ground. She was no nonsense and quite frankly, I didn't want any either. What we'd be up against would be looking for _anyway_ to worm into our working relationship to keep us from discovering what was going on, and why. That was all I could tell from Detective Swan's thoughts at this point. She was very difficult to read, very difficult indeed. Maybe that would be a good thing. I'd not be subjected to a continuous inner dialogue of useless information. Perhaps when I was in closer proximity to her I'd be able to better read her.

A little over an hour later, I was ushered into the office of the Director of Special Operations through which the Detective Bureau works and reports. I was of course shown complete courtesy and even given an empty office from which I could work if I so desired.

I viewed the "office" that I'd been assigned. To say it was dark and dingy would be an understatement. Snorting to myself, I vowed to try not to do any work from here if at all possible. I of course knew that was the idea. Seldom was the FBI really welcomed by any city law enforcement agencies. I couldn't blame them either. Most of my colleagues tend to look down their noses at "lesser" agencies. In some respects I could understand that thinking. Those of us within the Bureau had to have at least a four year college degree in accounting, computer sciences and IT, Language; and Law and maintained at least a 3.0 GPA.

I however, didn't view things as my colleagues did. I'd met individuals who had no formal education whatsoever and could think circles around me even with my impressive 4.0 plus G.P.A. from Harvard. I'd never judged individuals by their lack of formal education. Horse sense and or street smarts counted much higher in my estimation.

Most police personnel who managed to attain the higher ranks were extremely intelligent, but didn't flaunt it so they would be able to interact with "the troops" without ranker.

As I stood looking at the cracker box I'd been given to use, it's phone rang. Curiosity got the better of me and my spidey sense told me it _was_ for me.

"Hello" I answered like I belonged.

"Agent Cullen?" It was Isabella Swan.

"Yes, this is he. And you are?" I asked just to be polite.

"This is Detective Sergeant Isabella Swan. The autopsy is done now and I'm back at the station. I could come down there if you'd like and go over the findings with you."

"No, I'll come to you. I'm sure your office is better lit and more, ah, spacious than the one I've been assigned. What floor are you on, or where are you?"

I'd hear it in her mind where she was, but thought it best let her tell me.

Ten minutes later I walk into her office space. I was right. It was better lit and definitely more spacious.

Detective Sergeant Isabella Swan didn't stand when I entered her office, but continued to sit leaning back into her chair. "_Christ! Another pretty boy. I bet he'll make a pass at me and I'll be forced to put him down,_" I heard her think, though it was not very loud which meant she was somehow shielding her mind from me. Unusual.

Walking up to her desk I extended my hand to shake hers. She slowly brought her hand up to mine and we shook. There was a slight tingling in my palm. _Unusual. Huh. Interesting._

Without a comment, however, I sat down and looked at her expectantly, ready to listen. I was here to find out what was going on and who was responsible.

"_Hmmm, very interesting."_ Isabella thought, _"Maybe this one's for real and not like the other jumped up small minded FBIs I've dealt with in the past_.

There was a thick folder sitting on top of a pile of other file folders that was in the forefront of her mind. It was this folder that she handed me without comment.

"_Let's see what he thinks of this..."_ she was thinking.

I read the file and smiled to myself at her shock that I was actually here to do a job.

I looked up at her after going through the file and said, "Would it surprise you to know that this is not the first one of these cases I've come across? That there are indeed at least twenty other cases similar to this one?"

That comment got me raised eyebrows.

~o0o~


	4. Chapter 4

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic

Chapter 4

**Summary:** Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

**Disclaimer:** Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

**A/N:** Please remember this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches as well as real Guardian Angels, but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating. My undying thanks to my Beta JoanOfArt and to buggins74 who pre-read for me. Wouldn't be able to do this without you!

CI = Confidential Informant

~o0o~

Chapter 4

Previously: _I looked up after going through the file and said, "Would it surprise you to know that this is not the first one of these cases I've come across? That there are indeed at least twenty other cases similar to this one?"_

_That comment got me raised eyebrows._

~o0o~

Sitting in front of Detective Swan I listened to the inner dialogue going on in her mind. "_This guy's yanking my chain...I don't believe him...There are more of these weird assed murders out there_?"

I waited until she stilled. "Yes, there are more of these strange murders going on all around the States. I've even heard of one up in Canada," pausing for effect. "Here's a thumb drive with what I have. I think you'll see from the breadth of the cases why the FBI has been called in."

I handed the thumb drive over to her and waited.

She took it and looked up at me. "Why weren't any of these files in the computer system?"

"Quite simply because the Bureau doesn't like to advertise their existence, or my investigations on them." I looked at her, and waited.

She gave me one more long look thinking, "_This guy is so full of shit_," and inserted the thumb drive into her computer. Twenty minutes later, she sat back, open mouthed, clearly in shock.

"Wow. I can see why the Bureau doesn't publicize these. They're quite frightening. People killed without any outward appearance and the autopsy comes up with nada." She looked thoughtful. "May I keep this?"

Shaking my head I reached my hand out for the thumb drive and kept it out making sure to make eye contact with her. "No. You may not."

Reluctantly, she pulled it out of her computer's port and handed it back to me.

"_Ok. So that's the way he wants to play it. Bastard_." She was thinking.

"Now before you get your stomach in a twist, I've put in a request to officially share these with you. As soon as I get the OK, you'll get the drive and be allowed to copy them. However, under no circumstances will you be allowed to share them with any other officers. I'm sure you understand what common knowledge of these will do." I offered.

I had, in fact, that morning before I got to her office, called and asked for permission to share the information regarding the other cases with her. I knew it would be forthcoming, but it had to come down the chain of command.

~o0o~

"Would you like some coffee or maybe some hot tea Cullen?" I looked up from the file to see Bella standing in the doorway to the cubby hole I'd been assigned for my stay.

I lifted the cup I had from Starbucks and shook my head, "Generally the coffee in police stations gives me major heartburn, but thank you for the offer. If you tell me how you like your coffee I'll bring you some in the morning." I added.

She walked in and shut the door, then seated herself across from me. She looked levelly at me, "I've made arrangements for you to come share my office while you're here. It'll save us time and allow us to discuss our next moves better." At the same she was thinking, _"Maybe I can figure this dude out and see if he's for real. There is just something about him..._"

"Why thank you Detective Swan, I'd be delighted. This _space_ is making me claustrophobic." I smiled at her and rose, and started to gather what I had already acquired within the space.

"Wait, please." She didn't move and was stony faced. "I've done some checking on you. I've not been able to find out much, other than your brother on the force in Chicago is a real joker, but a good cop. The contacts I have in Chicago say you're the real deal and a bit scary, but good police," she paused thinking, _OK. Bite the bullet._ Then she continued, "I need to know that you won't embarrass me. It's hard enough to be a women in this environment. I don't need to be considered on the "ET Police", do you know what I mean Cullen?"

"Detective Swan, I assure you, I shall do my utmost to not embarrass either of us." Before she could comment I held up my hand, "But I do have special insight and connections that are unique to circumstances that surround these cases. I also have a good arrest and conviction record and have been able to clear cases, legitimately with good solid proof."

_"Maybe I should get off this FBI guy's case and just see how it goes."_ "OK FBI Guy, let's get you moved into my office."

~o0o~

The few files I had as well as my laptop and suit jacket were all I had to move. Detective Swan carried my Starbuck's coffee cup for me and within twenty minutes I found myself sitting across from her in her office.

I didn't exactly have much room, but my laptop fit comfortably and I shared her stack of files that we were being worked with.

Once I was installed and had my computer up and running, Detective Swan began asking questions about Sam, his wife Angela and her sister Lauren. "This Sam Uley, how long have you known him? I see you have him and his wife and sister-in-law listed as your private CIs." She looked at me and continued, "Just how do they help you with a case?"

"Can we just say for now that the Director of the FBI in Washington DC is satisfied that they are good sources of information?" I asked.

"I understand that Cullen, but I still want to know." She was thinking, "_This guy better convince me or we won't get very far..._"

Nodding I stood up and shut the door to her office. "I do understand Detective Swan, I really do, but there are some things that just can't be explained. If, however, you're willing to sign a personal NDA, then I'll explain everything the best way I can."

Scoffing she snorted out, "An NDA? How is that legal when there's a murder investigation going on?"

"This NDA is of a personal nature. I am revealing certain things that the FBI does not want made public knowledge. Once you sign it, I'll give you full disclosure about myself and my CIs. Otherwise, you'll just have to trust me and any information I come up with." I set my mouth into a firm line and making it very clear that I would not budge from this.

"So you are saying, this is some personal information that the Bureau doesn't want made public?"

I nodded.

"Ok, I'll play your game Cullen. Give it to me." _This guy is so full of shit. NDA my ass!_

I opened my briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed them to her.

"You weren't kidding were you?" Detective Swan's face was full of surprise. The top most paper carried the official logo of the Federal Bureau of Investigation as well as the embossed seal for the Bureau. Not only that, but it was signed by the Director of the FBI and countersigned by the Assistant Director. "_Holy shit! Maybe this FBI Guy is for real!_"

~o0o~


	5. Chapter 5

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic

Chapter 5

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N: Please remember this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches and there are Guardian Angels, but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating.

Translations:

Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns

CI = Confidential Informant

~o0o~

Previously:

_"You weren't kidding were you?" Detective Swan's face was full of surprise. The top most paper carried the official logo of the Federal Bureau of Investigation as well as the embossed seal for the Bureau. Not only that but it was signed by the Director of the FBI and countersigned by the Assistant Director. Holy shit! Maybe this FBI Guy is for real!_

~o0o~

"No. I wasn't kidding and neither is Washington." I answered her. "Now, do you have a notary on staff or do we need to go to the courthouse?"

About an hour later, we're climbing the steps to the courthouse and the Office of the Notary Public.

We take a number and sit down. Bella pulls the NDA from the legal size envelope and skims over it once more. This is a good thing. Her thoughts are still scoffing, but she's not as positive as she was before. There was something about the signature of the Director and Associate Director that made it real for her.

~o0o~

Sometime later, we are back in Detective Swan's and my office holding new and hot cups of Starbuck's coffee.

She's looking at me expectantly now.

"Where would you like to begin?"

She has a raised eyebrow.

_This woman is going to be really tough. I can see in her mind that she doesn't believe anything that she can't touch...see for herself._

"Let's say I can read your mind, for starters." I stated very matter-a-factly.

"Bull shit." was her only reply and she was thinking the same thing.

"I want you to think in your mind, while holding your expression neutral, on something that no one else here knows about you." I told her.

"Ok. I'll play your silly game." She retorted. _When I was a little girl I witnessed the finding of the body of boy I went to school with._ She thought.

"That must have been horrific for you Bella," I spoke softly.

"What?" She asked.

"That you were present for the discovery of one of your classmates dead; a boy named..." I paused and waited for her mind to fill the name in.

_Tyler Crowley_ she thought.

"Tyler Crowley" I told her.

Bella's eyes got huge. _Did my father ever tell anyone about that? He told me he didn't put it in his report!_

"No, Detective Swan, I didn't read that in any report. I hadn't realized you were with your father at the time." I told her softly.

~o0o~

After about an hour, most of Detective Swan's skepticism had demisted.

"Wow. You really _are_ the real deal. You can actually read minds. I'll give you that. Okay, but, what about this Sam Uley, his wife and sister-in-law?"

"You read the file I gave you explaining what they could do, what else do you want to know?" I asked. That file was covered by the same NDA so I knew I could tell her anything I wanted to about the trio.

"For starters, what the hell is a Hoodoo Man/Root Worker?" She asked.

"That's not easy to explain." I paused, "He has special talents that allow him to put together odds and ends they call a greegree bag, that can protect against certain things. He is also a very powerful psychic like his wife and sister-in-law."

She just sat there and looked at me.

"Look, there is no way to prove anything to you unless you see it with your own eyes. Of course you know as well as I do that eyewitnesses are not the most reliable witnesses. I will, however, do my best to explain."

I begin telling Bella about my childhood and about how I met Sam. I also give her some details from a couple of cases where Sam, his wife and sister-in-law provided the evidence that helped to convict people of "questionable" affiliation in the occult world.

For the better part of the next hour or so, Bella just sits listening to me with her mouth open. I keep waiting for a fly find it open.

Finally, she speaks. "I don't think I'll ever sleep comfortably again."

I know she's serious as I can see the beginning of a new terror in her consciousness. "Look I didn't tell you about these things to frighten you, but only so you would understand what Sam, Angela, Lauren and I do." I tell her.

She looks thoughtful once again. "OK. Will I ever see your Guardian Angel?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Michael doesn't usually let others see him, in the flesh - so to speak." Shifting in my chair, " I've only had glimpses of him since that first time I saw him.

Bella leans back in her chair and steepled her fingers together, "So, can you tell me then how you know that Michael's helped you at all?"

"Hmmm, let me think." I remember a time not too long ago, maybe two or three years before my wife and son were killed...

_I was in a high speed car chase in pursuit of a suspect and was unaware that I in turn was being chased by one of the group's members. We were traveling at speeds over 100 m.p.h. and going downhill. Suddenly I felt my solar plexus tighten, which is one sign that someone is trying to connect with you. The next thing I knew, my car was literally flying through the air._

_I kept thinking to myself, well this is it Cullen, you're gonna die. It was at that moment when I saw movement out of the corner of my right eye. Michael was sitting there just as I'd seen him that first time in the tree._

_He turned and spoke to me, "It seems I'm always catching you in mid-air, Edward. Hang on, it's going to be bumpy" and then he was gone._

_I was aware of the car I was in, hitting the ground and bouncing, I think. Anyway, I landed in front of the car I was chasing and was able to swing across the highway to prevent it from continuing on. They screeched to a halt just as I got out of the driver's seat and trained my 357 on the driver, and I made the arrest. The car following, however, saw me in time to stop and turn around, never to be seen again..._

Then it hit me. My car was suspended and was flipping over when Michael saved me; the exact same thing that happened to my wife's car. Witness reports said that her car had just raised up and started flipping over and over before crashing down on the car's roof, crushing Sara and our son. Why hadn't I thought of that before?

I became aware of Bella's hand waving in my face. Evidently I'd stopped speaking mid sentence.

"Sorry Bella, I was thinking about the night my wife and son were killed and how the circumstances of what happened to them and what I had escaped, were so similar."

She looked at me regretfully. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'd forgotten. I'm so sorry for your loss Edward. Truly I am. That was just last year some time, correct?"

"Yes." I sigh heavily, "I still miss them so much." Then I tell Bella about when I'd met Sara and how happy we'd been when we found out we were pregnant.

"You know Cullen, I've never had the desire to marry, or to have children. I wish I could tell you that I understand, but the closest to that in reality for me would be when I had to put my childhood dog to sleep a couple of years ago. I still get misty eyed just thinking of that. I can only imagine the loss of your kind would be so much worse. I am truly sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," I smiled at her. "Let's get back to these files to see if they have anything in common with each other. There has to be something that links them all together."

~o0o~


	6. Chapter 6

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent and Psychic

Chapter 6

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N: Please remember this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches as well as Guardian Angels, but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating. Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." So please think about that when reading.

My undying thanks to my Beta JoanOfArt and to buggins74 who pre-read for me. Wouldn't be able to do this without you!

Translations:

Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns

CI = Confidential Informant

Hey = In the South can be "hello"

~o0o~

Previously:

_Then it hit me. My car was suspended and was flipping over when Michael saved me. That was the same thing that happened to my wife's car. Witness reports said that her car had just raised up and started flipping over and over before crashing down on the car's roof crushing Sara and our son. Now why hadn't I thought of that before?_

_I became aware of Bella's hand waving in my face. Evidently I'd stopped speaking._

_"Sorry Bella, I was thinking about the night my wife and son were killed and how the circumstances of what happened to them and what I had escaped were so similar."_

~o0o~

Detective Swan and I spent hours going over the files and came up with nothing. To say we were frustrated was an understatement.

Leaning back in my chair, I ran both hands through my hair and sighed. "I guess we're going to have to use old fashion foot work to find a connection, unless Sam can come up with something."

Bella's mind was whirling with lots of nothing.

"Do you mind if I call Sam and see if they've managed to come up with anything that could be used as a lead for us?" I pleaded with my eyes that she'd understand why I needed to do this and why I wanted to have her present.

"Only if you put your phone on speaker so I can be introduced to them and so that I can ask questions of them as well." Bella stated flatly.

Without further conversation I pulled my phone from my pocket and found my speed dial numbers and pressed the one for Sam.

"Yello'" came Sam's deep bass voice through the speaker after about the 8th ring.

"Hey Sam." I responded. Of course he knew who was calling so I didn't even bother to be polite and tell him it was me.

"Cher! So nice to hear your voice, and that pretty _Pichouette Bebelle_, is she dar wit cha' now?" Sam boomed.

"Cut it out Sam. One would think you weren't a Road's Scholar." I chuckled, "Speak like you can so I don't have to translate, please."

"Aw, alright. Just for you, Bella." I could hear the laughter in Sam's voice.

"How the hell did he know I'd be listening Cullen? Did you set me up?" Bella sputtered.

Sam answered, "No Cher. My wife told me you wanted to 'test us' to see if we were for real. So I thought I'd start with baby steps."

~o0o~

After about fifteen minutes of conversation between Bella, Sam and myself, Bella was at finally convinced that she had not "been set up."

Then I had a idea. "Hey, Sam, how 'bout you three come to LA on the government's dime? It would probably shorten the investigation and cost far less than it would without the three of you coming here."

Bella snorted thinking, "_Yeah, like the FBI would pay for that_".

"Yes, the FBI will pay for the airfare for all three of them as well as hotel accommodations for however long they need to stay Detective Swan." Sam and I had said it almost together word for word, except Sam said, "we" instead of "they".

Bella just sat there with her mouth open. We both knew exactly what she was thinking; further proof that we were not exaggerating the abilities that we had.

"Guess we showed her, huh Cher?" Sam laughed.

An hour later, I had authorization for Sam, Angela and Lauren to fly coach from New Orleans to Los Angeles the next day, as well as hotel accommodations for their extended stay.

I called Sam back to give him the particulars. While I had him on the phone, I relayed to him the realization I'd had about what happened to me in the car chase. The time when Michael saved me. The similarities between it and what had happened to my family's car when they'd been killed.

Sam went silent for a bit, thinking. I don't even try to follow his thoughts as they're in Cajun and I'm not that fluent.

"Of course! Why didn't we see this before? Oh Edward, I'm sorry man. I guess we were just too close to it to see the similarities. I'll tell Angela and Lauren and see what they come up with." Sam finally answered, his voice is subdued.

"Thanks Sam. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. I think Detective Swan is apprehensive about meeting the three of you, so it's up to us to help her see what an asset we are to a murder investigation." I say before hanging up.

"Well, Detective Swan, I'd like to call it a night here. I'm going to go back to my hotel, get something to eat and then try to get some sleep if I can." I pause, "Would you like to have dinner with me?" I figure it's a real long shot. As worried as she is about men not seeing her as anything other than a "piece of ass" she'll most likely refuse.

Much to my surprise she answers, "You know, I'd like that. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other without 'bullpen' noises. I think you're one of the most interesting individuals I've met in a very long time Agent Cullen."

Her thoughts have nothing else in them besides curiosity about me.

"Great. About how long before you'll be able to get there? For that matter, how long will it take me to get there?" I ask scratching my head.

"This time of day, I'd say give it at least an hour." She grins. "It takes about an hour to get anywhere around here unless you know the surface streets. I'll tell you what, let's go together - in separate cars - and that way you can see how to get to and from your hotel." She paused wondering if she should tell me the next thing, "I don't live too far from there. Well, not too far by LA standards that is." She finished with a big grin.

I like that look on her.

~o0o~


	7. Chapter 7

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent and Psychic

Chapter 7

**Summary:** Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

**Warning:** Contains Supernatural events and characters

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I have borrowed her characters but they are dancing to my music.

**A/N:** With my undying gratitude to my Beta, Jyl and pre-reader Amy. Without them, I fear this would be unreadable. Thank you ladies! You're just the best!

**Translations:**

Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns

CI = Confidential Informant

Hey = In the South can be "hello"

~o0o~

Previously:

_"Well, Detective Swan, I'd like to call it a night here. I'm going to go back to my hotel, get something to eat and then try to get some sleep if I can." I pause, "Would you like to have dinner with me?" I figure it's a real long shot. As worried as she is about men not seeing her as anything other than a "piece of ass" she'll most likely refuse._

_Much to my surprise she answers, "You know, I'd like that. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other without 'bullpen' noises. I think you're one of the most interesting individuals I've met in a very long time Agent Cullen."_

_Her thoughts have nothing else in them besides curiosity about me_.

~o0o~

"Hello?" Detective Swan answers her cell phone without even looking to see who the call is coming from.

"Hello Detective, this is Edward Cullen. Is the restaurant within the Redbury ok with you? Its specialty is Middle Eastern cuisine. If you don't care for that we can go somewhere else, but I've been assured that the food is excellent and you can always have a steak if you'd prefer." I explained.

"That's fine; I've eaten there before. The food is very good, and the service is top notch." Detective Swan approved.

I could tell she had indeed eaten there before with another man. Her sometimes boyfriend...however, they were off at the moment. I didn't try to dig any deeper into her thoughts as the LA traffic was dense and seemingly unpredictable.

I put all thoughts out of my mind and just paid attention to the traffic around me.

Within less than an hour we are at the Redbury, parked and entering the restaurant. We are seated quickly. I knew it was because I had reserved the best suite available and also reserved a second suite to house Sam, his wife and sister-in-law when they arrived. The hotel did nothing less but cater to it's residents and regular clientele.

Once we were seated in a booth where we'd have some privacy we were immediately given the wine list and our drink orders were taken. Another waiter came and took our meal orders and we were left in peace for the moment. It was then that I knew Detective Swan was about to ask me her most personal questions.

"You've been a psychic all your life, Agent?"

"Yes, I have and it would save us both time if we could do away with our titles when we're talking amongst ourselves, don't you think? Please, call me Edward or Cullen. Your choice." I asked

"Alright. Cullen, you may call me Swan. To be frank, I would like to keep everything on a very professional level." Swan replied.

"Sounds good to me. Now what is it that you want to ask me?" I responded.

"Don't you already know?"

"Yes, I do, but I'm being polite and allowing you to ask."

"Alright. Thank you. Have you been a psychic all your life?" She asked drolly.

"Yes." I answered simply. She made her point.

She cocked an eyebrow at me wanting more of an explanation. So I told her my life story in a nutshell. I ended my tale with the discovery that I had a guardian angel.

"You know, I find it easy to accept that you're a psychic. I've met others before. It's the mind reading and guardian angel I'm having problems with." She admitted.

Smiling, I explained to her, "I had a hard time accepting Michael at first myself, but he's appeared to me so many times since that first night, that I'm no longer surprised when he shows up."

"How many times has he appeared to you?"

"More than I have liked only because each time he's appeared I was in a situation where I most likely would have been killed if it weren't for him." I explained.

She nodded. She could understand that.

"You know," she began, I was raised Catholic and understand "angels" and even guardian angels, but I've never met someone who's actually seen one or talked to one. Why...?" She didn't finish her sentence.

"Why have I been allowed to?" I finished for her.

"Yes, why you?"

"Actually I asked the same question and he told me that I was being kept alive for a very special purpose." I could hear her asking "_what purpose?_" "I have not been told that as of yet. I suspect it's because when that time comes, I'll die." I replied answering her unspoken question.

It was at that moment my cell phone began to vibrate, and her's must have also because she fished it out of her purse. Both of us checked our screens.

"Well, she said, we've got another one."

I signaled for the waiter to bring me the bill, signed my name and room number to it and we both left. As we headed toward the elevator we decided to take her car since she was familiar with LA and we'd get there much faster.

~o0o~

In less than an hour Detective Swan and I pull up to a small house in what I'm assuming is the Hispanic quarter of Los Angeles. The house is now cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. Police officers, patrol cars - both marked and unmarked, are parked all over the place. There's an ambulance sitting there waiting, I suspect, for the coroner to arrive and call the scene.

Detective Swan and I show our badges to the officer keeping everyone out of the scene. We are given paper booties and latex gloves to put on so we don't further contaminate the crime scene.

I am surprised to see that there are very few people inside the house. In what I'd called the living/family room sits a woman who's sobbing uncontrollably next to a female patrol officer.. There are also what appear to be two teen aged boys sitting there with blank, unbelieving faces. I can feel the grief coming from the sobbing woman, and from the boys great uncertainty about what's going on and what's going to happen to them. I also pick up from them that it's their father who is dead, and that they wish their mother would shut up.

"I wish Sam, Angela and Lauren were here. They can read a crime scene so much better than I can."

Detective Swan arches an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I can read peoples' minds and figure out their motives about a crime scene, but Angela and Lauren can see what happened. In most cases, they can even see faces. No names, but faces of perps for sure. They've got an excellent track record." I explain.

"Is there a time limit to their... ah, skills?" Detective Swan asks.

"Of course the more time that has passed from the time the crime occurred the less likely they are to see the faces clearly." I confirm.

"Hmm, well I guess it's a good thing they're coming tomorrow morning then isn't it?"

"Yes, it's a very good thing." I reply as we walk into the nightmare that's the family's kitchen.

~o0o~


	8. Chapter 8

Edward Cullen FBI Special Agent and Psychic

Chapter 8

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Warning: Contains Supernatural events and characters

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I have borrowed her characters but they are dancing to my music.

Translations:

_oh mi Dios. que me ayude!__ = Oh my God! Help me!_

~o0o~

Chapter 8

Previously:

_And then we walk into the nightmare that's the family's kitchen._

~o0o~

Considering that the family kitchen was now a crime scene, it was fairly neat and clean. The kitchen table had been pulled into the center of the room and the chairs had been removed by the murders and put into, I guessed, another room of the house to make room for what had happened.

Laying on the table was a middle aged man. He had the most terrified look on his face. His last moments must have been horrific indeed. Well that was something that Angela and Lauren would probably be able to sort out when they arrived here tomorrow.

There was nothing else in the room to indicate what had happened, but it was obvious that the man was dead.

I pulled my pocket sized high intensity flashlight out and started moving it around the room, counter tops, floorboards, flooring, table top, under the table. I even flashed the ceiling to see if there was anything there that was out of place.

Damned room looked clean.

I was still crouched down shining my light around when Detective Swan touched my shoulder to get my attention. I looked up and she told me, with her mind no less, that she was going to go speak to the first responders.

Smart girl. She caught on quickly.

While I was still looking around the kitchen, trying to get some kind of vibe, the Crime Scene Investigation Unit arrived, and I was shooed out of the room. I found myself being drawn into the family room with the widow of the dead man, Mrs. Eduardo Martinis. Sylvia was her given name. She was forty-one years old. She had three children. All three were with her now. The baby, Marcus, had just been brought home. I wondered why Marcus hadn't just been left where he was, but then I felt it strongly; Sylvia needed them all with her. She needed to see with her own eyes that they were safe.

I stood in the doorway and watched the family interact with each other. The older boys wanted nothing more than to be somewhere, anywhere else but here right now.

"Officer?" The woman police officer looked up at me.

"Sir?" She responded.

"Could you come speak with me for a moment?" I asked.

"Yes Sir. How can I help you?"

"I was just wondering how long you've been here." I could see in her mind that she'd been one of the first responders. There had been two patrol cars called to this address and she was in the second one to arrive.

Her answers to my questions were exactly as I'd seen it in her mind.

"How was the family acting when you arrived?" I asked.

"The wife was hysterical; much worse than she is now. The two boys were in tears and holding their mother, together." She replied.

I asked more, "Was there anyone else here at all when you arrived?"

"No Sir. Just the two boys and their mother, and of course the other two officers who got here first."

Thank you Officer..." I peered at her name tag, which read Officer J. Stanley, "...Stanley you may return to the family." I finished my sentence. She turned to leave and I followed her into the room and stood in front of the wife.

"I'd like to offer my condolences for your loss Mrs. Martinis. I lost my wife and son just a little over a year ago and I have some understanding of what you are experiencing. I'd like to recommend someone I know for grief counseling for you and your family. It's a service that's free of charge. Please, call them when you feel you're ready." I handed the business card to the grief stricken woman and walked out of the room. It's a very good thing I'd been taught how to block strong emotions, or I'd be totally worthless on a crime scene.

I went outside to find Detective Swan. She was still talking with three of the first responders making notes for her report.

I listened to what was being said without appearing to, although Detective Swan had acknowledged my being there silently. She was getting very good at this, I thought smiling.

~o0o~

The next morning I picked Detective Swan up at the Precinct and we drove the big SUV I'd rented to carry Sam, Angela and Lauren around with us to the crime scene and any other places the five of us needed to travel together to.

I knew that Angela and Lauren would be "feeling" Detective Swan out and I could tell from the smirk on Angela's face that she liked "_La Belle_" as she'd taken to referring to Bella, or The Bell. Lauren wasn't as sure yet, but didn't appear to have found anything really negative about Detective Swan's feelings. Sam just sat there smiling. When he first saw Detective Swan his first thoughts were, "_how much she looks like Sara_". I'd scoffed at him and he said or thought no more about it.

We arrived at the crime scene about an hour later and it took another 15 minutes for Bella to clear the area inside the house of everyone. The family was staying with relatives who also lived in LA. There was no way they'd be coming home anytime soon.

The five of us entered the house at the same time. I explained to Bella before we got there that Sam, then Angela and finally Lauren should enter the scene first. We hadn't told them anything about the scene as it was better to let them get their own impressions first hand.

I watched and listened to them as they each walked around very quietly. Sam headed for the family room, Lauren went upstairs and Angela was drawn to the kitchen. Moments after Angela entered the kitchen she let out a terrifying wale.

Sam was the first to reach his wife. She was thrashing on the floor. Sam knelled beside her and starting murmuring something to her in French that seemed to calm her considerably.

I'd seen her do this before when the Spirits were "riding" her so I tuned in to see if I could pick up on what was going on.

Then, I wished I hadn't...

_Smoke curled up into the ceiling and filled the room. It was so thick it was hard to breathe. In fact, that must have been what had awakened him. The next thing he noticed was that he was tied down. He was splayed out spread eagle, and he was naked. Then he heard the drumming and a humming noise._

_What the hell is going on here? Why am I tied down? Where are my clothes? Who the hell are all these people? WHAT'S GOING ON?_

_He was thrashing around so much trying to get free that it didn't even register that there were only 4 other people in the room with him. There was a man dressed in white robes, and three women all dressed in scarlet dresses._

_The white robed man was beating on a drum called The Manman, or Mother drum. A second man came in. He was dressed in all black; even his face was painted black. He walked out of eyesight._

_What the hell is going on?!._

_It was then, and only then, did he realize that he was unable to speak._

_He wasn't gagged, but try as he might he could not get his voice to work._

_There was more chanting again and the drum beat increased. The women spun frantically._

_The chanting increased in volume._

_More smoke._

_Louder drumming._

_One of the women was now laying on the floor convulsing and speaking in a foreign language._

_A second woman was shrieking and spinning._

_A third woman dressed in white was chanting. She was standing next to him with her arms extended over her head._

_She was a white woman! _

_oh mi dios. que me ayude!_

_It was then that he felt it. At first it had only been a low hum, but now it had graduated into a full blown pain in his head until he thought it might explode._

_It did._

~o0o~

A/N1 Many of you in your reviews have mentioned that the chapters aren't long enough. I've been trying to keep them at a minimum of 1,000 words mainly because so many people try to do their daily reading on their phones. Also, it helps with a quicker turn around when I don't have to come up with 3,000 or 5,000 words per chapter. I don't think my old hands would last much longer at that rate of typing. :)

A/N2

The Manman – (from the French for Mother) This is the tallest and deepest drum in the ensemble, and plays the role of the leader. It ranges in height from 30 to 48 inches. The master Maman player takes cues from the participants in the ceremony, from the officiating priests, and from the lwas ( In Vodou, there are three categories of supernatural beings: les morts (the dead a.k.a. the ancestors), les mystere (the lwas), and les marassa (the sacred twins ) themselves. It is played with a stick in the strong hand and bare handed with the weak hand. The stick, called a Bagèt (from the French baguette), strikes both the head of the drum and the side, producing a strong clicking sound. The bagèt can be straight, curved, hooked, or even hammer shaped.


	9. Chapter 9

Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic

Chapter 9

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Warning: Subject matter is of an occult and supernatural nature. Some scenes may be difficult for some to read. Just remember that this is a work of fiction and a product of my imagination. Things don't really go "bump" in the night, do they?

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N:1 Thank you, JoanOfArt for your wonderful beta skills and your suggestions. I am in serious "like" with you my friend. My thanks to my pre-readers Amy and Gabby. You two rock!

Definitions:

Spirits "Riding" = being possessed by a spirit

~o0o~

Previously:

_The five of us entered the house at the same time. I explained to Bella before we got there that Sam, then Angela and finally Lauren should enter the scene first. We hadn't told them anything about the scene as it was better to let them get their own impressions first hand._

_I watched and listened to them as they each walked very quietly. Sam headed for the family room, Lauren went upstairs and Angela was drawn to the kitchen. Moments after Angela entered the kitchen she let out a terrifying wale._

_Sam was the first to reach his wife. She thrashing on the floor. Sam kneeled beside her and starting murmuring something to her in French that seemed to calm her considerably._

_I'd seen her do this before when the Spirits were "riding" her so I tuned in to see if I could pick up on what was going on._

_Then, I wished I hadn't..._

~o0o~

Angela was still laying on the floor with Sam kneeling beside her when the rest of the team reached the kitchen. She was no longer convulsing and only looked to be peacefully sleeping.

I knew that Swan was standing behind me, to my right and was thinking _what the hell is going on now? Fuck that's all I need is to have one of the imports get sick. Shit_!

Looking over my shoulder I responded to her thoughts. "Not to worry. It's part of the process. If you'd ever been around this type of psychism before, you'd understand. She's just had a vision of what happened; how the murder was committed."

"Well, care to share?" Swan flatly asked.

"I need a few moments, please. It was particularly horrific and extremely painful for the victim. When Angela felt the last few moments of the man's life, I was tuned into her mind. I promise I'll share. Just give me a few to re gather my wits." I responded.

Sam returned and reported that he'd not felt or experienced anything in the rest of the house.

Lauren added that she, too felt the house seemed to be completely devoid of anything. It was strange. The kitchen area was the only place where there were any vibes. She didn't want to stay inside any longer, so she went back out into the front yard to wait for the rest of us.

For as many times as I'd been to crime scenes where "magic" had been used I'd never really gotten used to it. Every time, every scene, was completely different. Some were more powerful than others; some more violent. This one was one of the worst I'd encountered. It was "fresh" and I was sure I never wanted to be to another one that was ever again.

"I need to get some food into Angela," Sam told me. "She didn't want to eat anything this morning so her psychic facilities would be more open, but now she needs to eat something to shut them down."

Swan heard Sam and spoke up, "There's an IHop not too far from here. Let's go there. I could use something in my stomach myself." She made eye contact with everyone and we all followed her back outside to the parked SUV.

We got in and Swan directed me out of the taped off crime scene area about 2 miles away to the IHop. We all filed into the restaurant which was thankfully in between rushes. It was much quieter than it would have been otherwise. We were shown to the largest booth they had and once we were seated, the waitress came and took our orders.

Twenty minutes later we had steaming plates of pancakes and crepes with mounds of bacon and sliced ham in front of us. There was some very good natured jostling over who'd get what syrup. Soon the only sound that could be heard was the moans of delight as we devoured our food.

When the plates had been scraped clean and removed from the table, more coffee and tea was poured. Bella could no longer stand it. "What happened at the crime scene?"

Sam smiled at Bella, "Been thrown into the deep end of the pool, haven't you?"

Swan nodded.

"What has Edward told you about us and our er... working relationship?" Sam looked from her to me.

"I've signed an NDA about your and Cullen's abilities," Swan responded.

Sam then looked at me, _Can you hear her_? I nodded. _Listen then and let me know how it goes_.

"Well, Bella," Sam drawled, "My wife and her sister come from a very long line of powerful psychics, all who've lived in this area all their lives."

A little impatiently Detective Swan responded, "Yes, I know. I've done some research on the internet."

Sam looked at me. _Skeptical_. I shrugged.

"I understand your skepticism, but surely you've received enough information about our family's abilities?" Sam asked.

I spoke up. "She wants 'to finger the wounds', Sam."

Swan looked at me like I was crazy. _What the fuck_...

Sam's laugh was deep. "Bella, have you ever gotten an electrical shock?"

"Of course I have! Who hasn't?" Was her response.

I smiled. I knew what was coming.

Sam pulled out a small draw string bag that looked like it at one time contained tobacco. He placed it in the palm of his hand and placed both his hand and bag on Bella's shoulder.

She gasped. Her eyelids fluttered and she gasped one more time before Sam pulled his hand away.

_Shit! That smarted. What the fuck was in that bag_? Swan's thoughts were confused and angry.

Sam's booming laughter filled the silence. Angela smiled at Bella for the first time, and even Lauren's mouth turned up slightly. "Bella you only just got a taste of how Angela felt when she opened herself up to the psychic forces swirling around that kitchen."

His eyes gentled then, "So now you have a very slight understanding of what my wife experienced. You didn't see anything just then, but she did. She also experienced everything that the victim felt."

"Why the hell would any of you want to feel that?" Swan asked in all seriousness.

"Because we can, and also because we want to find and stop those who would do that to another human being. It's a degrading of the Spirit, and damaging to the Soul. By finding those who commit such vile acts, we help free the Spirit and the Soul from that damage." I told her quietly.

Swan only nodded. "So who did it, and what was done to the vic?"

"I'm not really ready for the debriefing just yet," Angela said weakly. "Can we talk about it later please? My head is splitting."

Swan's thoughts were still skeptical. _OK_. W_e'll find out when the body is autopsied_.

~o0o~

A/N: It seems the main question and thoughts about chapter 8 was why the victim was killed the way he was. The "usual" purpose of a human sacrifice is for the life energy that is expended at death. The more frightened a victim is, the more powerful the energy. The next most asked question had to do with why that particular individual was chosen. That's something we'll have to visit another time.

As for the length of chapters, the overwhelming response was that the majority of my readers like the "short" chapters and to "please keep them coming". Thank you. Even though I knew the shorter chapters would be easier to read on a phone, it's very nice to have confirmation from my readers.

We'd like to invite you to join us on our Facebook page, Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent & Psychic if you haven't found us there already, and let us know you heard about it from here.

I thank each and everyone of you who have reviewed and I think I've answered them all but if I've missed you, please forgive me. I do try. I appreciate you all.

Dinia


	10. Chapter 10

Edward Cullen FBI Special Agent and Psychic

Chapter 10

Summary: Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

Warning: Subject matter is of an occult and supernatural nature. Some scenes may be difficult for some to read. Just remember that this is a work of fiction and a product of my imagination. Things don't really go "bump" in the night, do they?

Disclaimer: Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N:1 Thank you, JoanOfArt for your wonderful beta skills and your suggestions. I am in serious "like" with you my friend. My thanks to my pre-readers Amy and Gabby. You two rock!

Translations:

Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns.

CI = Confidential Informant

Spirits "Riding" = being possessed by a spirit

~o0o~

Chapter 10

Previously:

_Sam's booming laughter filled the silence. Angela smiled at Bella for the first time, and even Lauren's mouth turned up slightly. "Bella you only just got a taste of how Angela felt when she opened herself up to the psychic forces swirling around that kitchen."_

_His eyes gentled then, "So now you have a very slight understanding of what my wife experienced. You didn't see anything just then, but she did. She also experienced everything that the victim felt."_

_"Why the hell would any of you want to feel that?" Swan asked in all seriousness._

_"Because we can, and also because we want to find and stop those who would do that to another human being. It's a degrading of the Spirit, and damaging to the Soul. By finding those who commit such vile acts, we help free the Spirit and the Soul from that damage." I told her quietly_.

_Swan only nodded. "So who did it, and what was done to the vic?"_

"_I'm not really ready for the debriefing just yet," Angela said weakly. "Can we talk about it later please? My head is splitting."_

_Swan's thoughts were still skeptical. OK. We'll find out when the body is autopsied._

~o0o~

"Agent Cullen?"

I look up into deep brown eyes. _Funny, I hadn't noticed that before._ "Yes." My voice sounds flat. I am tired, I'm not sleeping well at all.

"That last phone call was from the coroner's office. They're ready to start the autopsy and they wanted to know if we wanted to attend. Do you wish to join me there?" Detective Swan has been all business since we got back from the crime scene and our breakfast when Sam showed her a small dose of how it felt to "feel" a crime scene.

"No, thank you. I know what they'll find and frankly I'm bone tired. I think I'll just have a town car take me back to my hotel. If anything new comes up, I'll call you. You do the same." I say as I stand and start putting the file folder back into my briefcase.

I precede her through the door, but feel her following behind me. She catches up to me at the elevator banks and waits with me until the elevator arrives and we share the ride down.

I feel her looking at me every once in awhile, but I really don't care.

"What?" I finally ask. I have leaned back against the elevator walls with my eyes closed.

"What's wrong Edward?"

I turn my head and look at her. "What do you mean, what's wrong?"

"You've lost that 'I know I'm right' attitude you had when I first met you." Bella says.

"I told you, I'm tired."

"I think there's more."

"Why Detective Swan? What have you detected?" I respond.

"A shift." She answers flatly.

I don't even attempt to read her thoughts. I am so tired of death. I just want to crawl into a bed and pull the covers over my head. Sam won't let me though. He'll come looking for me and pull me out of my doom and gloom. It's retribution. I've done it to him in the past. Now it's my turn.

"I'm much too tired right now to explain it to you. I need to sleep and recharge my internal battery." I say wearily, "Call me later and I'll see if I can explain it to you better after I've had some rest." The elevator car comes to a stop, the doors open and I walk out across the floor to the glass doors that part at my approach. I blink at the bright sun light. I descend the steps and wait at the curb as the town car pulls up next to me. Opening the back door, I look slightly over my shoulder and see Detective Swan standing on the steps watching me. _"I think I need to call his friend Sam,_" I hear her thinking. I smile at her and wave.

I scoot across the seat and close the car door. The driver doesn't need to be told where I want to go. He's been hired for my entire stay and knows that if I come to the curb he's to pick me up. He also knows that he's to follow me everywhere I go while I'm here. I close my eyes and drift off into a light sleep.

~o0o~

"Sam, I'm telling you I am concerned about Agent Cullen." Bella says.

"I understand, Cher. This happens to all of us eventually. He's getting burned out. Leave him to me. I know just exactly what to do." Sam pauses feeling something. "As a matter of fact, why don't you meet me, my wife and sister-in-law for dinner at the hotel? We all need to unwind a little I think." Again, Sam pauses. "Don't even try to tell me you can't make it. You don't lie to a psychic Cher, you just don't." He pauses waiting for her response. "Good. We'll see you in about 2 hours?" "Ok. Till then."

Sam disconnects the call and looks at his wife who is laying on the bed in their suite. Lauren is in the other bedroom doing whatever it is she does when she's alone.

"Little Swan has feelings for our Edward." Sam states.

Removing the wet cloth from her eyes and forehead Angela looks at Sam and nods.

~o0o~


	11. Chapter 11

Edward Cullen FBI Special Agent and Psychic

Chapter 11

**Summary:** Edward Cullen is the unacknowledged grandson of Harry Houdini from whom he's inherited strong psychic abilities. Together with his closest friends: a Hoodoo man, two Witches from the Louisiana Swamps and an honest to God Guardian Angel, they work to solve crimes that ordinary law enforcement is unable to solve.

**Warning:** Subject matter is of an occult and supernatural nature. Some scenes may be difficult for some to read. Just remember that this is a work of fiction and a product of my imagination this is a work of fiction, and as such I've taken "liberties" with some things. However, there are Hoodoo men or Root Workers in real life who can do unbelievable things. There are also powerful psychics who prefer to call themselves witches as well as there are Guardian Angels, but I have never seen one myself. So with the above in mind, please just accept this as a work of fiction and enjoy the world I'm creating. Things don't really go "bump" in the night, do they?

**Disclaimer:** Ms. Meyer started it all. I've borrowed her characters, but this storyline is mine.

A/N: My undying thanks to my Beta JoanOfArt and to buggins74 who pre-read for me, and to Gabby for her back up on psychism. Wouldn't be able to do this without you!

Translations:

Cher = term of endearment by Cajuns

CI = Confidential Informant

~o0o~

Chapter 11

Previously:

_"I understand that, Cher. It happens to all of us eventually. He's getting burned out. Leave him to me. I know just exactly what to do." Sam pauses feeling something, "As a matter of fact why don't you meet me, my wife and sister-in-law for dinner at our hotel? We all need to unwind a little I think." Again, Sam pauses, "Don't tell me you can't make it. You don't lie to a psychic Cher, you just don't." He pauses waiting for her response. "Good. We'll see you in about 2 hours?" "Ok. Till then."_

_Sam disconnects the call and looks at his wife who was laying on the bed in their suite. Lauren was in the other bedroom doing whatever it was she did when she was alone._

_"Little Swan has feelings for our Edward." Sam states._

_Removing the wet cloth from her eyes and forehead Angela looks at Sam and nods. "Yes, she does. I think if this case does nothing else, it'll bring together two Souls who are in need of some comfort."_

~o0o~

Bella's Story Bella's POV

I was an only child, raised by a cop, and so it seemed like the most natural thing in the world was to become a cop like my dad.

My Dad; he was my world. Everything I did, I did to please him in one way or another. He loved sports so I excelled at them...well, everything but football, but when it came to tag ball I was as good as the boys. I could run and I was quick to change direction when necessary. Had I been a boy I would have been the quarterback for the high school football team. I was a real tomboy. Most of the friends I had were boys. Girls were silly creatures to me and I had nothing in common with them beyond our gender.

Therein was the making of my doom, so to speak.

At the homecoming football game, I was walking back from the bathrooms when I walked past a group of girls who didn't like me. In fact, they downright hated me. They didn't understand me. They mistook my shy ways for being snobby and thinking I thought I was better than everyone else because my father was the Police Chief in the community of Phoenix area that we all lived in.

As I walked past their catcalls and insults, one of the more obnoxious girls called to her boy friend telling him to grab me. He did.

The group of them proceeded to drag me under the grandstands. Other boys seeing what was going on decided to join the _fun_, and before anyone realized it they had a full fledged mob mind set going on.

I was striped, beaten and gang raped. It was only when two of my better male friends came to see what was causing all the commotion and realized what was happening that it stopped. They forcefully pulled two of the boys away from me, horrified to see me naked and bloodied. One put his basketball jacket over me while the other yelled for someone to call 911.

My father was beyond enraged. Once he was satisfied that my friends had not taken part in the altercation beyond pulling the boys from me, he let them go thanking them, belatedly for their assistance.

I spent the next two weeks in the hospital and many more months following in intensive psychotherapy for the scars that were not visible. When I was released from the hospital, I enrolled in a couple of martial arts classes. One for strength training, and kickboxing for defense and attack. I was never going to allow a man to get the better of me again, unless I desired for it to be so.

I was well into college before I could be around strange people without cringing and feeling the need to find a safe place.

I had my Dad buy me my first handgun. It was a 38 Snub Nosed beauty. I was determined to become the best damned shot in the State, maybe even our tri-State, and I also became more than proficient with a rifle.

No one would ever get the drop on me again. I worked out religiously and before long I could run 3 miles without breaking a sweat. I used the martial arts I learned as my strength training.

I should give credit to those boys who raped me. They definitely forced me to become stronger. Never again would I _**not**_ be in charge of what happened to me. I was strong and would not allow anyone to harm me again in anyway. I continued to strive to be the best.

~o0o~

It was in college that I met up with Alice Brandon. There was an instant connection between us. We became best friends and would always have been had it not been for another tragic incident in my life.

I was still undecided about what I wanted to major in. Alice had been trying to talk me into taking more English classes with her, but I was holding back because I couldn't see myself doing anything with it. I was leaning toward pre-law or history but I hadn't made up my mind yet.

I was in my dorm studying when the house phone located in the hall just outside my room rang. One of the other girls must have picked it up, because then I heard my name being called. No one but my dad or Alice ever called me, and I had just talked to Dad, so it had to be Alice.

"Hello?" I asked tentatively

It was my father's baritone that answered. "Bella, there are some policemen coming to take you to the police station."

"Dad! Are you okay?" I asked, my voice rising.

"I'm fine Baby, it's not me, it's Alice. When the policemen come, remember to ask to see their ID's."

I was shaking so badly I couldn't even hang the telephone up; someone else standing there did it for me. I slid down the wall unable to stand any longer. I didn't know how much time passed before the campus police arrived. I didn't ask to see their ID's. I didn't say or do anything other than nod that I was indeed Isabella Swan.

I didn't and still don't remember the trip from my campus dorm to the police station where I was met by a long time friend of my father, Billy Black. He told me that my friend, my only friend in this entire world had been found naked and beaten on the campus grounds.

The police wanted to know if Alice often walked alone on the campus grounds.

_I don't know. We'd never discussed it_.

Did she follow a route that took her through the more deserted sections of the campus?

_I don't know. I don't know. I don't know_. I was screaming at him.

I wanted to see Alice. I wanted to be with her. She needed me.

That's when Billy finally told me she was dead. The third victim of a serial killer/rapist prowling the campus.

I must have fainted. When I came to, my father was there. He'd left our small town and came into Phoenix proper just for me. It's the first time I remember my Dad holding me and talking gently to me. Not making promises other than he "had me and he wasn't going anywhere."

That night decided my college major and I never looked back.

~o0o~

I graduated with honors from college; a master's degree in criminal justice.

The next day, I left with my degree in hand and moved to Los Angeles. To say my dad had a hissy-fit would put it mildly, but there was nothing he could do to stop me. I took the test and was admitted to the LAPD's police academy and graduated again with honors. I was the first woman to make the shooting team, and because of my credentials I was made a training officer at the academy for the next two years.

I finally took the Sergeant's exam and became one of the first women police Sergeants in the department. There were only two of us. I was not content to sit around and direct incoming civilians to where they should go when they came into the precinct. The next time there was an opening within the Detective Bureau, I applied for it and made a big enough stink that I was promoted to that rank.

It was still far from clear sailing for me. I was immediately resented because I was a woman and everyone "knew" that women were considered weak in the field. They were sure that I'd get one of the men killed because they would feel the need to protect me. That or I'd get pregnant and have to be replaced, which was alright with the majority of them. It didn't matter that I was a crack shot and could take down a 250 pound man despite my 110 pound stature.

I was assigned to a Detective James Hunter as my first partner.

It wasn't long before I was filing sexual harassment charges against him. Because of this I was not put with another partner, but allowed to work alone.

I was still thought of as a weak woman. Eventually, however, after proving myself so many times in so many ways that I gained their grudging respect.

I closed cases. I found and brought in perps. My arrest record was one of the highest ever within the Detective Bureau.

That was where things stood when I met Edward Cullen, FBI Special Agent and Psychic.

It was only then that it was pointed out to me that I was very intuitive and that was why I was so good at figuring out crime scenes and at interviewing suspects. This answered so many questions for me, eventually.

~o0o~

**Author ending note**: In almost every review it's mentioned about Bella and Edward "getting together". It may happen eventually, but both of them have emotional issues at this point. Bella cares for Edward as partners do when they spend so much time together. She cares as much for Sam, Angela and Lauren at this point. They've got a big mystery on their hands and need to devote all of their energy into solving it. If the characters decide to take the "partner" relationship any further I don't really know about it as of yet. Remember, I'm just the typist! *grinning*


End file.
